


Occasional Insomniacs

by Huffleporg



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Kitlafey, M/M, Multi, Pillow Talk, imagine your ot3, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huffleporg/pseuds/Huffleporg
Summary: A collection of assorted sordid nights, conversations, and perhaps even a pillow fight.





	1. Lipstick

The mattress shifted. With three in a bed, it was hardly a rare occurrence, and Kit had been about to go back to trying to fall asleep when she heard it - the slide of plastic over metal punctuated by a faint pop. She rolled onto her side and pushed herself up to peer into the night. Even without her glasses, she couldn’t have mistook Olaf in the darkness, sitting up so he could lean over Dewey’s sleeping form between them. He held the tube of lipstick like a pen, poised over Dewey’s forehead. 

“What are you doing?” It was an unnecessary question, she knew, but at two in the morning she allowed herself a few wrong questions. 

Olaf’s stare dared Kit to stop him, but when she didn’t chide him for such childishness, he whispered, “Pay back,” and pressed the red stick to his boyfriend’s forehead.

A quick mental replay of the evenings events yielded nothing Kit could think of that any reasonable person would be upset over. But, Olaf was very rarely a completely reasonable person. 

Her eyes followed the outline of a penis and testicles that Olaf traced across Dewey’s face. “And you’ll pay me back for ruining my lipstick.” It wasn’t a question.

Without any hesitation and not looking up from his work, Olaf said, “It’s mine.”

A part of Kit wished that she could actually be surprised by such a statement, but mostly, she was amused. Whatever antics had necessitated Olaf to wear make-up had to be a good story, one that that Dewey would most definitely want to hear as well. 

It would have to wait until the morning.

For the moment, Kit could only chuckle and murmur, “That’s really not your color, O.”


	2. Show Off

The light seeped in through his eyelids. Try as he might, no matter how hard he clenched his eyes shut, he couldn’t keep out the glow from the bedside table lamp. Even with his head underneath his pillow, it was too bright. With an exaggerated groan, he knocked his pillow off to the side, and draped his arm across his face, reaching out with the other to grab the book in his partner’s hand.

“What, Olaf?” sighed Dewey.

Olaf didn’t need to see Dewey’s face to know exactly how his lips were drawn together. “Do you have to be doing that?” 

“Do you have to be so histrionic?”

“Do you have to take every chance to show off your vocabulary.” He lifted his forearm up so it rested over his eyebrow. “Wait, scratch that. Let me phrase it in your language: Must you seize every opportunity to illustrate your vast and versatile lexicon?”

Dewey let out a laugh. “Thank you.” He wrested his book from Olaf’s grasp and began to thumb through the pages until he found his place again. 

“That wasn’t a compliment,” insisted Olaf. 

“From you that’s practically a love letter.”

“No,” he rebutted. “I think you’re a show off-”

“Which rhymes Olaf.” Dewey turned the page. 

The impresario wasn’t entirely sure how his name had turned into a recurring joke. “Fuck you.”

Without any hesitation, Dewey replied, “Not tonight, dear. I have a headache.” 

“Ha.” Olaf sat up. “Ha!” He pointed at Dewey, who had finally looked up from his book.

“Ha yourself,” Dewey said flatly.

Grinning, knowing that he had caught the occasional librarian in a lie, Olaf said, “Why are you staying up for Kit if you have a headache! You’re bluffing.”

“Or maybe it’s a good book and after waking up with a lipstick dick on my face, I am a little bit less concerned about you being well rested than I am about the Joads,” said Dewey with the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Olaf opened his mouth about to point out that he knew that Dewey had read _Grapes of Wrath_ before and most certainly was aware about what happened to the unfortunate farmers, but then it dawned on his exhausted mind that that was exactly what Dewey was getting at. He rolled his eyes and lay back down. “Read to me.”

“What?”

“Read it to me,” insisted Olaf. The only thing that had stopped him from getting through the book was just how long it was and how many times it could be renewed from the library. 

“I’m almost at the end!” said Dewey in a flustered tone. “You can’t just jump into a story that late in the game.”

“They go to California, it sucks. Rose has her baby, but it’s dead. She nurses some starving man, the end.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the movie or picked up on the general idea of what happened after the first hundred pages from years of suffering through ‘friends’ and associates that constantly wanted to remind everyone of just how erudite they were. 

With a reluctant sigh, Dewey shook his head. “Fine.” He cleared his throat and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I had fun writing the banter between Olaf and Dewey, and I hope you did too, but I can't tell unless you tell me so!
> 
> Because of the drabble nature of this story, I will most definitely accept prompts and suggestions. You can give them here or send the to me at tumblr (huffleporg.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This work exists because an anon on Tumblr prompted me to write a Kitlafey sleepover, and I just had so many ideas. I'll post little drabbles here and there about this OT3 that just needs some love.   
> And therapy.  
> But that's a common theme in the Snicket-verse.


End file.
